THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OE  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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HISTORICAL  SKETCH 


SYNOD   OF  KENTUCKY 


1802-1902 


AN   ADDRESS   BY 

EDW.   W.    C.   HUMPHREY 


DELIVERED  October  14,  1902 

AT 

Lexington,  Ky. 


BEFORE   THE  SYNOD   OF  KENTUCKY 
NORTH   AND   SOUTH 


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Synod  of  Kentucky 

1802-1902. 


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|UR  Synod  of  Kentucky  was  Ijorn  in  a  sea  of 
trouble,  in  the  dark  nighttime  of  a  period 
wherein  all  that  is  true  and  vital  in  religion  seemed 
about  to  disappear. 

A  brave  and  honest  look  out  over  the  waters  of 
^  that  stormy  sea,  and  into  the  hidden  recesses  of 
"^  that  dark  and  troubled  time,  is  demanded  by  the 
>«  truth,  and  is  the  only  way  whereby  we  can  obtain 
^  a  clear  conception  of  what  our  Synod  has  suffered 
^  and  endured,  has  done  and  accomplished. 
^  The  descendants  of  an  old  people,  from  an  old 

world,  were  drawn  into  a  new  country  to  build  up 
^     a  new  commonwealth. 

in  They  were  called  ui)on  to  face  dangers  and  hard- 

3.    ships   with  that   unfaltering  courage  and  tenacity 
z    which  has  time  and  again  brought  into  life,  a  vigor- 
ous and  springing  life,  some  of  the  greatest  qualities 
which  have  ever  been  bestowed  upon  the  children 
O     of  men. 

^  But  the  way  was  long  and  hard,  the  struggle 

O  fierce  and  bloody.  Passions  aroused  by  a  pro- 
03  tracted  contest  with  veteran  soldiers  of  England 
uj  and  the  cruel  red  men  of  the  forest  were  to  be 
followed  and  intensified  by  the  strife  of  political 


parties,  and  a  huge  tide  of  evils  engendered  by  the 
French  Revolution. 


449097 


Among  that  people,  along  the  Atlantic  Sea- 
board, in  the  closing  years  of  that  tremendous  con- 
flict, rumors  began  to  spread  themselves  abroad 
that  in  the  West,  beyond  the  mountains,  there 
existed  a  garden;  almost  a  Garden  of  Eden;  almost 
a  Paradise  of  God. 

Our  historian  (Davidson)  tells  us: 

"The  first  explorers  of  Kentucky  spread  every- 
where, on  their  return,  the  most  glowing  accounts 
of  what  they  had  seen.  The  luxuriance  of  the  soil ; 
the  salubrity  of  the  climate ;  the  dimpled  and  undu- 
lating face  of  the  country;  the  tall,  waving  cane 
and  native  clover ;  the  magnificent  groves  of  sugar- 
tree  and  walnut ;  the  countless  herds  of  buffalo  and 
elk;  the  pure  and  limpid  brooks;  the  deep  chan- 
neled rivers,  sweeping  between  precipitous  cliff's  of 
limestone ;  the  air,  loaded  with  fragrance ;  the 
groves,  resonant  with  melody." 

Among  the  publications  of  The  Filson  Club  there 
is  a  charming  book  entitled  "The  Wilderness 
Road,"  wherein  Mr.  Thos.  Speed  gives  an  account 
of  the  immigration  which  poured  into  Kentucky  in 
the  evening  hours  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  in 
the  morning  watch  of  the  nineteenth  ;  together  with 
a  full  description  of  the  routes  along  which  the 
human  rivers  ran. 

That  immigration,  when  its  history  is  made 
known,  will  appear  more  like  romance  than  reality; 
for  unparalleled  it  remains  to  this  day,  in  spite  of 
all  the  wonderful  things  which  we  have  witnessed 
in  this  our  wonderful  land. 


Daniel  Boone  made  liis  first  journey  of  explora- 
tion into  Kentucky  in  17(ii(.  In  1775  lie  moved  his 
own  and  five  other  families  thitlicr. 

In  1783  the  population  numbered  12, ()()()  settlers; 
in  1784,  2(),()()();  in  1790,  73,()()();  in  ISOO,  210,()()(); 
and  by  1820,  505,000  souls  had  found  a  home  amid 
the  forests  and  by  the  rivers  of  that  delightful 
region. 

And  thus,  over  all  dangers,  difficulties,  trials, 
and  hardships,  the  human  tide  flowed  on. 

Originally  a  i)art  of  Fincastle  County,  Virginia, 
the  "Region"  of  Kentucky,  was  set  apart  as  a 
separate  county  called  Kentucky,  in  1775;  and  as  a 
"District,"  with  three  counties:  JelTerson,  Lincoln 
and  Fayette,  in  1780;  and  was  admitted  into  the 
Union  as  a  sovereign  Stale  on  the  1st  of  June  17!)2, 
only  nine  years  after  the  close  of  our  American 
Revolution. 

We  can  well  bclie\e  that  the  early  pioneers  were 
astonished  with  a  great  astonishment  wlien  they 
beheld  such  floods  of  immigration  pouring  along 
the  "Wilderness  Road,"  on  down  tlie  iiiiglily  cur- 
rent of  the  Ohio.     To  them 

More  wonderful  it  seemed 
Than  all  the  golden  visions 
Of  all  their  golden  dreams. 

But  like  the  Israelites  of  old,  the  immigrant 
passed  through  a  great  and  terrible  wilderness,  a 
savage  and  relentless  foe  awaited  him  at  his  jour- 
ney's end,  and  many  eventful,  and  sometimes 
disastrous,  years  must  pass  by  before  that  immigrant 


host  could  enjoy  the  land  which  they  had  won,  ere 
they  could 

Lie  down  in  the  green  meadows 
And  by  the  side  of  the  waters  rest. 

The  heart  of  the  Bluegrass  region  lay  500  miles, 
as  the  crow  flies,  from  the  seacoast,  and  fully  300 
miles  from  the  crest  of  the  Allegheny  Mountains. 
In  what  is  now  West  \'irginia  and  Eastern  Kentucky 
existed  a  tangled  wilderness  of  hills  and  streams; 
a  barrier  which  no  one  could  cross,  a  region  covered 
all  over  "as  the  waters  cover  the  sea,"  with  "never 
ending  stretches  of  gloomy  woodland." 

President  Roosevelt,  in  a  delightful  book  en- 
titled "The  Winning  of  the  West,"  thus  describes 
that  gloomy  woodland : 

"It  was  not  an  open  forest.  The  underbrush 
grew  dense  and  rank,  making  a  cover  so  thick  that 
it  was  in  many  places  impenetrable;  so  thick  that 
it  nowhere  gave  a  chance  for  human  eye  to  see  as 
far  as  a  bow  could  carry.  .  .  .  Here  and  there  it 
was  broken  by  a  hillside  glade,  or  by  a  meadow-  in  a 
stream  valley ;  but  elsewhere  a  man  might  travel 
for  weeks  as  if  in  a  perpetual  twilight,  never  once 
able  to  see  the  sun  through  the  interlacing  twigs 
that  formed  a  dark  canopy  over  his  head." 

Now,  as  the  great  rivers  of  water,  on  their  way 
to  the  sea,  when  thrown  back  by  the  mountains, 
must  run  along  the  valleys  to  find  a  gap  where  they 
can  break  through  the  ranges,  so  these  streams  of 
human  life,  longing  for  and  striving  to  reach  that 
far-famed  region  in  the  West,   were  forced  to  run 


around  tliat  harrier  of  mountains,  far  to  the  south 
along  the  Wilderness  Road,  or  down  the  Ohio  River 
on  the  north. 

The  "Old  Wilderness  Road"  began  at  Phila- 
delphia, thence  by  York  and  Lancaster,  in  Penn- 
sylvania, through  Hagerstown,  in  Maryland;  thence 
clear  up  the  renowned  Valley  of  Virginia,  through 
Staunton,  Lexington  and  Abingdon  ;  thence  by  way 
of  the  Powell  Valley  through  CuniV)erland  Gap  to 
Crab  Orchard,  in  Kentucky.  At  Crab  Orchard  the 
stream  divided;  one  part  spread  over  the  "Blue- 
grass"  region;  one  part  pushed  on  to  the  Falls  of 
the  Ohio;  while  still  another  to  the  southwest^  as 
far  down  as  the  Cumberland  River.  So  you  see 
that  Middle  and  West  Tennessee  was  peopled  by 
immigrants  from  Central  Kentucky,  who  had  made 
their  way  thither  V)y  the  Wilderness  Road. 

After  a  while  the  pioneers  fovmd  a  path  over  the 
Pennsylvania  mountains  to  Redstone  and  Pitts- 
burg, where  flatboats  were  built  to  carry  them  down 
the  Ohio.  Some  planted  their  settlements  at  points 
along  the  banks  of  that  beautiful  river ;  some  passed 
on  into  the  Region  of  Kentucky;  while  others 
worked  their  way  up  the  streams  which  came  down 
from  the  North — such  as  the  Scioto,  the  Miami  and 
the  Wabash. 

But  whichever  route  they  followed,  the  hardships 
and  dangers  were  exhausting  and  severe.  The  river 
route  was,  if  anything,  more  dangerous  than  the  trail 
running  through  the  endless  forest. 

From  an  old  publication,  dated  May  10,  1792, 
we  learn  that  the  most  direct  route  from  Cincinnati 
to  Philadelphia  was  by  way  of  Lexington  and  Crab 


Orchard,  and  thence  by  the  Wilderness  Road  over 
the  Cumberland  Gap,  and  thence  down  the  long 
Valley  of  Virginia. 

And  so,  whether  along  the  Wilderness  Road,  or 
down  the  swift  current  of  the  Ohio,  "wherever  the 
boatman  could  follow  the  winding  stream,  or  the 
woodman  could  explore  the  forest  "shades,"  the 
hardy  pioneer,  battling  with  Nature  and  the  red 
Indian,  each  in  their  wildest  moods,  at  last  found  a 
habitation  and  a  home. 

The  importance  and  bearing  of  these  reflections 
will  become  abundantly  evident  as  we  proceed 
with  this  narrative.  And  it  will  appear  to  our 
Synod  in  no  small  degree  is  due  the  further  fact: 
"  That  along  the  banks  of  all  these  rivers,  in  what- 
ever land  they  flow,  have  been  founded  the  hospital, 
the  orphan  asylum,  the  refuge  for  the  insane,  the 
fallen  and  the  helpless,  and  hard  by  them  all  is 
builded  the  House  of  God  and  the  Gates  of  Heaven." 

The  movement  of  people  into  a  new  country 
had  never  been  without  a  train  of  evils.  But 
this  overwhelming  flood  of  immigration  was  attended 
by  evils  of  corresponding  magnitude,  which  told 
with  tremendous  force,  for  a  long  time,  upon  the 
spiritual  life  and  growth,  and  of  course  upon  the 
moral  and  restraining  influence  of  religion.  The 
character  of  that  immigration,  as  well  as  the  rapidity 
thereof,  exaggerated  those  difticulties  which  always 
confront  the  church  in  a  new  country;  and  inten- 
sified thosewhich  weredeveloped  l)y  the  peculiarities 
of  that  extraordinary  migration. 

Imagine  a  mighty  human  tide  poured,  in  a  few 
years,  into  the  dense  forest  of  an  uninhal)itcd  coun- 


try,  concerning  which  Mr.  Roosevelt  has  said : 
"  U])  to  the  door-sills  of  their  log  huts  stretched 
the  solemn  and  mysterious  forest.  There  were  no 
openings  to  l:)reak  its  continuity;  nothing  but 
endless  leagues  on  leagues  of  shadowy,  wolf-haunted 
woodland.  The  great  trees  towered  aloft  till  their 
separate  heads  were  lost  in  tlie  mass  of  foliage 
above  .  .  .  The  sunlight  could  not  penetrate  the 
roofed  archway  of  murmuring  leaves;  through 
the  gray  aisles  of  the  forest  men  walked  alwavs  in 
a  kind  of  mid-day  gloaming." 

That  human  stream  far  outstripped  the  means 
of  grace.  "The  long  continued  absence  of  Sabbath 
services,  of  the  regular  ordinances  of  the  church 
and  of  its  wholesome  watch  and  discipline."  The 
neglect  of  family  worship,  and  above  all  of  the 
systematic  instruction  of  the  young  people  in  sacred 
things,  fostered  a  spirit  of  reckless  indifference, 
and  a  low  state  of  religious  belief  and  practice,  in 
which  the  youth  "grew  up  unimbued  with  religious 
principle  and  imaccustomed  to  moral  restraint." 
(Davidson.) 

When  the  pioneers  lost,  somewhere  along  the 
Wilderness  Road,  or  abandoned  in  the  excitement 
and  danger  of  border  life  tlie  faith  and  teaching 
of  their  fathers,  of  course  the  next  generation 
grew  up  in  ignorance  and  unbelief. 

And  the  task  which  stared  our  Synod  in  the 
face,  the  day  it  was  born,  was  to  redeem  from  their 
evil  ways  the  men  of  that  new  generation,  lest 
it  should  be  said  of  them — the  words  written  in 
the  good  old  book,  in  the  long,  long  ago: 


"There  is  evil  among  all  things  that  are  done 
under  the  sun  .  .  .  the  heart  of  man  is  full  of  evil, 
and  madness  is  in  their  heart  while  they  live,  and 
after  that  they  go  to  the  dead. 

"Their  love,  their  hatred  and  their  envy,  is  now 
perished ;  neither  have  they  any  more  a  portion 
forever  in  anything  that  is  done  under  the  sun." 

From  the  point  where  the  ^^'ilderness  Road 
entered  Kentucky,  at  Cumberland  Gap,  to  a  point 
on  the  Ohio  River  called  Limestone  (near  where 
now  stands  the  city  of  Maysville)  extended  the 
renowned  "Warrior's  Path."  This  was  a  trail 
running  through  the  woods  and  over  the  hills — 
along  w'hich  the  Northern  and  Southern  Indians 
passed  and  repassed  in  their  forays  against  each 
other.  For  none  of  these  tribes  dwelt  in  Kentucky, 
it  was  a  common  hunting  ground  for  all,  not 
one  had  any  right  or  title  therein,  not  one  acknowl- 
edged the  right  or  title  of  any  save  the  strongest. 

So  right  upon  the  threshold  of  those  fair  lands, 
in  the  region  called  Kentucky,  ran  the  Warrior's 
Path,  and  whosoever  crossed  that  narrow  way, 
entered  upon  a  contest  whose  annals  are  stained 
with  deeds  of  cruelty  and  blood. 

Mr.  Roosevelt  tells  us,  in  the  work  from  which 
I  have  quoted:  "There  are  many  dark  and  bloody 
pages  in  the  book  of  border  warfare,  that  grim  and 
iron-bound  volume,  wherein  we  read  how  our 
fathers  won  the  land  we  inhabit. 

"The  Indians  were  terrible  in  battle,  and  cruel 
beyond  all  belief  in  victory.  .  .  .  The  inhuman 
love  of  cruelty  for  cruelty's  sake,  which  marks  the 
red  Indian  above  all  other  savages,  rendered  these 


wars  more  terriljlc  tlian  any  others.  For  the 
hideous,  unnamable,  unthinkable  tortures  practiced 
by  the  red  man  on  their  captured  foes  and  on  their 
foes'  tender  women  and  helpless  cliildren  are  such 
as  we  read  of  in  no  other  struggle.  ...  It  was 
inevitable  that  such  deeds  should  awake  in  the 
breasts  of  the  whites  the  grimmest,  wildest  spirit  of 
revenge  and  hatred.  And  when  we  consider  the 
excesses  committed  by  the  whites,  it  is  only  fair 
to  keep  in  mind  the  terrible  provocations  they 
had  endured.  Mercy,  pity,  magnanimity  to  the 
fallen  could  hardly  be  expected  of  the  frontiersmen 
gathered  together  to  war  against  an  Indian  tribe. 
Almost  every  man  of  such  a  band  had  bitter  personal 
wrongs  to  avenge;  he  was  actuated  by  a  furious 
flame  of  hot  anger,  and  goaded  by  memories  of 
which  merely  to  think  was  madness." 

These  elequent  words  of  Mr.  Roosevelt  disclosv 
the  fact  that  when  the  English,  Scotch,  the  Scotch- 
Irish  and  the  Huguenot;  who  made  up  the  great 
bulk  of  that  immigrant  host;  had  once  crossed 
the  Warrior's  Path,  they  never  faltered;  and  if  they 
grew  stern  and  hard  as  they  fought  the  warriors' 
battle;  if  at  times  the  candle  of  their  religion  grew 
dim  in  the  socket ;  nevertheless,  they  never  lost 
those  sterling  qualities,  or  that  deep  religious  con- 
viction, which  have  throughout  the  world  made 
their  work,  their  deeds  and  their  fame  enduring 
and  immortal. 

But  we  must  dwell  for  a  while  upon  two  other 
dangers  which  hung  like  a  dark  cloud  over  our 
Synod. 


12 

To  the  demoralizing  influence  of  border  war- 
fare must  be  added  a  universal  spirit  of  cupidity 
and  avarice,  engendered  by  the  inflow  of  capital 
and  wild  speculation  in  these  Western  lands.  The 
prodigality  and  recklessness  of  the  land  oflice  pro- 
duced an  avalanche  of  litigation,  feuds  and  heart- 
burnings which  lasted  for  a  generation.  It  created 
an  irresistible  passion  for  excitement ;  it  retarded 
the  religious  growth  of  the  people ;  it  gave  rise  to 
an  atmosphere  which  enveloped  the  whole  com- 
munity in  its  deadly  folds. 

Evils  such  as  these  would  soon  have  run  their 
course  and  passed  away,  had  not  another  super- 
vened, peculiarly  fitted  to  poison  an  atmosphere 
already  charged  wath  elements  which  steel  the 
human  heart-  against  the  pleading  of  conscience 
and  the  requirement  of  religion.  I  refer  to  the 
introduction  and  spread  of  that  abandoned  type 
of  infidelity  and  materialism  engendered  and  spread 
far  and  wide  by  the  French  Revolution.  It  was 
but  natural  that  the  American  people  should  have 
accorded  a  most  enthusiastic  support  to  that  revolu- 
tion in  its  opening  stages,  and  before  its  wild  excesses 
developed  its  true  character,  and  before  suff^ering 
and  disaster  accumulated,  such  as  call  to  mind  that 
old  prophecy  in  Deuteronomy:  "The  Lord  shall 
send  upon  thee  cursing,  vexation  and  rebuke,  in 
all  that  thou  settest  thine  hand  unto  for  to  do. 
The  Lord  shall  smite  thee  with  a  consumption,  and 
with  a  fever,  and  with  an  inflammation,  and  with 
an  extreme  burning,  and  with  the  sword,  and  with 
blasting  and  mildew,  and  they  shall  ])ursue  thee 
until  thou  perish." 


Does  it  not  seem  anomalous  that  among  the 
colonists  on  the  seaboard,  the  men  of  1776,  with  all 
their  strong  traits  of  character  and  intellect,  their 
power  to  detect  and  separate  the  true  from  the 
false — that  in  soil  in  such  as  that  the  most  offensive 
and  radical  type  of  infidelity  ever  known  should 
have  taken  root  and  grown  and  flourished? 

But  there  is  nothing  anomalous  in  the  fact  that 
it  should  have  been  carried  unto  the  wilderness, 
and  there  found  a  dwelling-place  among  a  genera- 
tion of  men  upon  whom  the  ties  of  religion  hung 
loose  and  easy. 

And,  like  a  quick  and  powerful  poison,  it  went 
springing  through  the  arteries  and  came  back  again 
through  the  veins,  loaded  with  moral  corruption 
and  spiritual  death. 

There  is  a  proverb  as  old  as  the  everlasting  hills 
that  "what  a  man  believes  that  will  he  do."  In 
proportion  as  a  man  abandons  his  faith  in  God  his 
moral  nature  becomes  enfeebled  and  corrujJt;  and 
vice  and  dissipation  will  reveal  the  tlioughts  and 
intents  of  the  heart. 

Nor  is  this  all,  the  leaven  of  those  opinions, 
like  the  tares  sown  in  the  wheat,  produced  a  harvest 
of  errors,  errors  old  and  new ;  errors  far-reaching 
and  vital  in  character;  errors  in  doctrine  and  fre- 
quent lapses  in  faith  and  practice;  not  only  among 
professing  Christians,  but  even  in  tlie  little  ccjinjxiny 
of  ministers. 

But  David  Rice,  who  like  a  monarcli  of  the 
forest  towered  far  above  his  fellows,  gathered 
around  him  a  band  of  true  men,  to  detect  and 
grapple  with  those  errors  in  every  form;  and  when 


the  time  came  to  strike  they  struck  quick  and  hard. 
Davidson  tells  us  that  at  one  time  or  other  nearly 
one-half  of  the  ministers  were  subjected  to  church 
censures  more  or  less  severe,  some  rebuked,  some 
suspended  and  others  deposed. 

The  tide  soon  began  to  turn.  An  order  of  men 
appeared,  far  diiferent  from  those  who  came  in 
that  feverish  rush  over  the  "Wilderness  Road"; 
men  who  in  ability,  learning  and  spiritual  power 
gave  to  our  Kentucky  ministry  an  influence  and 
standing  which  it  has  never  lost. 

But  how  has  it  happened  that  the  history  of  our 
Synod,  in  the  first  half-century  of  its  existence,  is  so 
full  of  dissensions  and  divisions?  Due  in  part  to 
the  causes  which  I  have  mentioned,  but  mainly  to 
the  truculent  and  combative  character  of  the  peo- 
ple themselves.  An  intense  individuality,  a  spirit  of 
defiant  self-reliance,  the  wild  freedom  of  the 
hunter's  life,  the  dangers  and  cruelty  of  border  war- 
fare, the  isolation  and  loneliness  of  their  lives  gener- 
ated an  intolerance,  a  combativeness,  a  self-asser- 
tion intensified  by  certain  hereditary  tendencies 
among  a  people  whose  ancestors  were  renowned 
for  what  I  shall  call  firmness.  True,  they 
accorded  great  respect  to  the  opinions  of  other 
people  so  long  as  those  opinions  coincided  with 
their  own.  And  in  matters  of  importance,  and 
especially  in  matters  of  religion,  what  they  con- 
sidered a  sanctified  firmness  governed  tlie  actions 
and  thoughts  of  those  men. 

Do  not  think  that  this  narrative  is  overdrawn 
or  that  the  shadows  in  the  picture  have  been 
painted  in  colors  of  too  dark  a  luic.      It  rests  upon 


the  testimony  of  men  like  David  Rice,  who  knew 
but  too  well  how  dark  were  the  tnnihled  waters  of 
the  stormy  sea  upon  which  our  Synod  was  launched 
on  the  14th  of  October,  1802.  But  in  that  tem- 
pestuous sea  there  were  undercurrents,  deep  and 
strong,  in  the  native  character  and  disposition  of 
the  people:  courage,  endurance,  sagacity,  and  deep 
religious  convictions.  And  the  subsequent  history 
of  our  State  and  our  Synod  gave  abundant  evi- 
dence that  in  1S02  these  undercurrents  were  sleep- 
ing, not  dead. 

As  the  Synod  of  \'irginia,  with  an  eye  single  to 
the  greatness  of  the  "Western  Country,"  enlarged 
its  boundaries  from  thne  to  time  to  include  moun- 
tains, plains,  rivers  and  forests,  so  the  Synod  of 
\'irginia  extended  its  jurisdiction  over  the  ever- 
widening  limits  of  the  State.  Into  that  Western 
country  the  minister  followed  hard  after  the  hunter 
and  the  pioneer;  and  as  the  towns  and  cities  were 
built,  from  the  tall  chimney  of  the  factory  it  was 
but  a  little  distance  to  the  tapering  spire  of  the 
church. 

In  17SG  there  were  four  Presbyteries  within  the 
bounds  of  the  Synod  of  Virginia: 

Redstone,  embracing  the  settlements  in  Western 
Pennsylvania;  Hanover,  which  covered  Eastern 
Virginia,  i.  c,  the  country  lying  east  of  the  Blue 
Ridge;  Lexington,  which  extended  up  the  V'alley  of 
Virginia,  and  into  what  is  now  West  Virginia;  Tran- 
sylvania, which  included  the  region  called  Ken- 
tucky, the  settlements  on  the  Cumljerland  River 
and  its  tributaries,  and,  by  a  subsequent  Act  of  that 


SjTiod,  the   settlements  on  the  Miami  and  Scioto, 
north  of  the  Ohio  River. 

At  no  point  within  fifty  miles  could  any  one 
have  located  the  bounds  of  the  Transylvania  Pres- 
bytery. Those  who  suppose  that  this  Presbytery 
or  its  successor,  the  Synod  of  Kentucky,  had  any 
fixed  or  natural  boundaries,  are  greatly  mistaken, 
for  in  after  years  the  limits  of  the  Synod  were 
extended  north,  south  and  west,  far  out  into  the 
great  unknown. 

This  Presbytery  (Transylvania)  was  organized 
on  the  17th  of  October,  1786,  at  Danville,  and  by  a 
subsequent  Act  of  the  Synod  of  Virginia  it  was 
divided  into  three :  • 

West  Lexington,  (so  called  to  distinguish  it  from 
the  old  Lexington  Presbytery  in  \'irginia)  embraced 
Central  Kentucky;  A\'ashington,  located  on  both 
sides  of  the  Ohio,  in  North  and  Northeast ;  Tran- 
sylvania, a  vast  territory  in  Western  Kentucky  and 
Middle  Tennessee. 

Now  let  us  look  at  the  expansion  of  our  Synod. 
First  a  Presbytery  was  formed  called  "Miami," 
located  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Ohio,  "embrac- 
ing all  the  territory  lying  west  of  a  line  drawn 
north  from  the  mouth  of  the  Licking  River." 

On  the  22d  of  May,  1S17,  our  General  Assembly 
ordered  that  so  much  of  the  Synod  of  Ohio,  within 
the  State  of  Indiana,  as  lies  west  of  a  line  drawn 
north  from  the  Kentucky  River,  be  attached  to  the 
Synod  of  Kentucky.  In  October,  1817,  our  Synod 
formed  a  new  Presbytery  called  "Louisville,"  bound- 
ed as  follows:  On  the  north  by  a  line  drawn  from 
McCoun's    Fcrrv    on    the    Kentucky    River,  thence 


with  a  line  leading  to  Bardstown  to  where  it  crosses 
the  Salt  River,  thence  along  that  river  to  the  Ohio, 
thence  with  the  Ohio  to  the  mouth  of  the  Wabash, 
thence  north  indcjinitely. 

In  181(j  our  Synod  ordered  that  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  West  Tennessee  Presbytery  be  consid- 
ered as  extending  across  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi 
Rivers — indefinitely,  containing  a  ])arl  of  tlic  Mis- 
souri Territory. 

By  another  Act  of  the  Synod  certain  vacant 
churches  in  the  Illinois  Territory  were  attached 
to  the  Presbytery  of  Muhlenburg. 

And  finally  a  new  territory  was  formed  by  the 
Synod,  having  for  its  eastern  boundary  the  Pedito 
River,  thence  in  a  direct  line  to  Fort  Jackson  at  the 
junction  of  the  Coosa  and  Tallapoosa  Rivers,  thence 
along  lines  which  extended  that  new  territory  across 
what  is  now  the  State  of  Alabama  clear  down  into 
Florida. 

So  you  see  that  our  Synod  when  it  undertook  to 
extend  its  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction,  did  nothing 
by  halves  or  in  a  small  way.  Whatever  might  lie 
beyond  its  sight  or  its  ken,  it  took  anyhow,  wherever 
it  was,  whatever  it  might  be.  Clearly  it  wanted 
the  earth  and  meant  to  have  it.  The  wide  extent 
of  the  bounds  of  the  Synod  of  Virginia,  the  dangers 
and  hardships  experienced  by  delegates  from  re- 
mote churches  and  settlements,  led  that  body  to 
petition  the.  General  Assembly  for  a  division.  Ac- 
cordingly the  General  Assembly  in  session  at  Phila- 
delphia, on  April  '2S,  1802,  Resolved — 

That  the  Presbyteries  of  Hanover,  Lexington 
and   Wincliestcr    constitute  a  Synod,  to  be  known 


as  the  Synod  of  Virginia.  That  the  Presbyteries 
of  Redstone,  Ohio  and  Erie  be  constituted  a  Synod, 
to  be  known  as  the  Synod  of  Pittsburg. 

That  the  Presbyteries  of  Transylvania,  West 
Lexington  and  Washington,  constitute  a  Synod  to 
be  known  as  the  Synod  of  Kentucky. 

Under  this  order  our  Synod  was  organized  at 
Lexington  on  the  14th  of  October,  1802.  Rev. 
David  Rice  as  Moderator  and  Robert  Marshall  as 
Clerk. 

Thirty  members  were  enrolled — seventeen  min- 
isters and  thirteen  elders — whole  number  of  min- 
isters thirty-seven.  Out  of  the  nineteen  ministers 
attached  to  Transylvania  Presbytery,  fourteen  were 
absent — the  first  cloud  above  the  horizon  in  the 
great  Cumberland  controversy. 

To  other  speakers  on  this  occasion  you  have 
assigned  certain  branches  of  my  subject : 

To  one,  the  Origin  and  History  of  the  Cumber- 
land Church; 

To  another.  Evangelism  and  the  great  revivals 
which  have  been  vouchsafed  to  us ; 

To  yet  another,  Education,  the  beginning  and 
growth  of  our  Colleges  and  Seminaries 

The  great  revival  of  1800  can  be  considered  by 
me  only  so  far  as  it  touched — with  a  tongue  of  hre — 
the  subsequent  history  of  our  Synod. 

Our  historian  has  said:  "Unlike  the  still,  small 
voice,  on  the  softly  flowing  waters  of  Siloa,  the 
great  revival  of  1800  rather  resembled  the  whirl- 
wind, the  earthquake,  the  imjietuous  torrent,  whose 
track  was  marked  bv  violence  and  desolation." 


19 

To  these  words  I  would  add  that  [\\v  elTecls  of 
that  violence  and  desohition  liave  lasted  down  to  our 
own  time. 

In  1S()2  the  impetuous  torrents,  started  by  the 
whirlwind  and  the  earthquake,  had  begun  to  flow 
in  all  their  strength. 

In  Central  Kentucky,  particularly,  crowds  of 
men  and  women,  half  crazed  by  religious  excite- 
ment, were  running  into  the  vagaries  of  the  "New 
Light"  schism,  or  were  rushing  into  the  extrava- 
gances of  Shaker  mysticism.  While  down  in  the 
"Green  River  Country"  a  far  more  formidable 
movement  was  slowly  maturing,  which  resulted  in 
the  formation  of  what  we  now  call  the  Cmnberland 
Church. 

As  I  must  abjure  altogether  the  Cumberland 
controversy,  I  now  invite  your  attention  to  that 
New  Light  schism,  which  so  grievously  disturbed 
and  crippled  our  Synod  in  the  morning  of  its  exist- 
ence. 

It  is  a  curious  thing,  that,  when  men  are  pushed 
hard  in  religious  controversy,  when  they  can  find 
no  authority  for  their  peculiar  views  in  Scripture, 
in  the  Creed,  or  in  the  polity  of  the  Church,  that 
then  they  begin  to  have  dreams  and  visions.  "New 
Light"  breaks  in  upon  them.  That  "New  Light" 
never  fails  to  come  just  at  the  time  when  they  need 
it  most ;  and  it  never  fails  to  teach  and  reveal  ex- 
actly those  things  for  which  they  have  been  con- 
tending. And  to  the  men  of  that  New  Light  Party, 
dreams  and  visions  came  in  sufficient  frequency 
and  abundance  to  constrain  them  to  do  all  of  those 


things  which  they  had  already  determined  should 
be  done. 

Whenever  we  hear  a  man  talking  about  the 
demands  of  modern  life  and  scholarship,  which 
are  sure  to  compel  us  to  abandon  all  creeds  and 
confessions,  and  to  come  down  to  the  bed  rock  of 
Christianity,  w-e  may  be  very  certain  that  the 
bed  rock  will  be  composed  of  just  such  materials 
as  the  exigencies  of  their  theories  or  the  trend  of 
their  opinions  may  require. 

Let  me  know  what  such  men  want  to  believe, 
and  I  will  undertake  to  fiix  that  bed  rock  to  suit 
them  inside  of  ten  minutes. 

The  accounts  which  have  come  down  to  us  of 
the  disorders  and  vagaries  which  have  accompanied 
and  followed  the  great  revival  of  1800  are  such 
that,  if  not  well  attested,  we  would  pronounce  them 
incredible. 

One  witness  thus  described  a  camp  meeting  held 
at  Cane  Ridge,  in  Bourbon  County.  "The  noise 
was  like  that  of  Niagara.  The  tide  of  emotion 
seemed  to  move  over  them  like  tumultuous  waves. 
Sometimes  hundreds  were  swept  down  almost  at 
once,  '  like  trees  of  the  forest  under  the  blast  of  the 
wild  tornado.'  Seven  ministers,  some  in  wagons, 
others  standing  on  stumps,  might  have  been  counted 
at  once,  all  addressing  the  multitude  at  the  same 
time.  Of  the  people  some  were  singing,  others 
praying,  others  crying  aloud  for  mercy ;  while 
hardened  men,  who  with  horrid  imprecations 
rushed  furiously  into  the  praying  circles,  were 
smitten  down  as  if  by  an  invisible  hand,  and  lay 
powerless  or   racked   by    fearful  spasms,  till  their 


companions  beholding  them  were  palsied  by  terror. 
At  times  the  scene  was  surpassingly  terrible,  the 
boldest  hearts  were  unmanned." 

"At  one  time,"  said  a  spectator,  "I  saw  at  least 
five  hundred  swept  down  in  a  moment,  as  if  a 
thousand  guns  had  opened  upon  them ;  and  then 
immediately  followed  shrieks  and  shouts  that  rent 
the  very  heavens. 

"As  darkness  settled  down  over  the  scene,  new 
features  of  terror  presented  themselves  to  the 
beholder.  The  camp  fires  gleamed  with  a  strange 
light.  Hundreds  of  candles  and  lamps  suspended 
from  the  over-arching  trees,  with  torches  in  every 
direction  lighting  up  with  strange  brilliancy  the 
motley  groups  beneath  and  the  tremulous  foliage 
above,  gave  to  the  whole  panorama  the  aspect  of 
wild  enchantment ;  while  chanted  hymns,  impas- 
sioned exhortations  and  earnest  prayers,  interrupted 
Vjy  sobs  and  shrieks  and  shouts  and  startling  cries 
for  mercy,  deepened  the  impression  made  upon  the 
beholder.  The  feeling  became  intense,  the  excite- 
ment indescribable  and  beyond  control." 

Another  witness  described  the  people,  "  praying, 
shouting,  jerking,  barking,  dreaming,  prophesying, 
and  looking  as  through  a  glass  at  the  infinite  glories 
of  y.ion  just  about  to  break  up  the  world." 

Such  disorders  in  conduct  are  always  accom- 
panied by  wild  extravagancies  in  faith  and 
doctrine ;  the  most  fundamental  truths  of  religion 
are  questioned,  denied  and  at  last  repudiated. 
Every  one  becomes  a  law  unto  himself — guided 
by  dreams  and  visions. 


22 

As  the  popular  feeling  in  favor  of  such  scenes 
amounted  to  a  passion,  it  required  courage  and 
wisdom  of  the  highest  order  to  stem  that  torrent 
of  "mad  enthusiasm  which  swept  over  the  entire 
territory  of  the  Synod,  threatening  a  subversion  of 
truth  and  order." 

But  there  were  men  in  the  Synod  equal  to  the 
occasion  and  gifted  with  those  qualities  which  the 
crisis  demanded.  At  its  second  meeting  in  1803,  the 
Synod  boldly  grappled  with  the  danger  and  called 
to  its  bar  the  leaders  in  what  men  chose  to  call  the 
"revival  movement."  It  took  up  a  petition  signed 
by  eighty  church  members,  which  in  the  Presbytery 
of  Washington  had  been  cast  under  the  table  with 
every  mark  of  contempt.  A  petition  which  seri- 
ously inculpated  the  erroneous  teaching  of  certain 
men.  And  after  a  full  and  careful  consideration 
the  Synod  proceeded  to  suspend  from  the  Gospel 
ministry  not  less  than  five  out  of  its  little  band 
of  thirty-seven  ministers.  Barton  W.  Stone,  Robt. 
Marshall,  Richard  McNemar,  Jno.  Thompson,  and 
Jno.  Dunlary.  And  in  October,  1805,  another, 
Matthew  Houston,  was  tried  and  deposed  from 
his  oflfice  as  a  minister. 

To  deal  with  the  people,  among  whom  Stone 
and  his  companions  labored  with  sleepless  activity, 
and  among  whom  this  pernicious  teaching  spread 
like  wildfire,  was  no  easy  matter.  But  "Father" 
Rice  and  a  small  band  of  men  who  stood  behind  him 
never  faltered;  going  about  among  the  people, 
appealing  to  their  strong  sen.se  and  better  reason, 
explaining  and  ex])ounding  the  tenets  of  a  sound 
doctrine     and    .  a    j)urc     religion,     and    circulating 


copies  of  Atkins'  edition  of  The  Westminister  Con- 
fession of  Faith. 

But  at  last  it  was  the  revival  leaders  themselves 
who  gave  the  conservative  men  a  chance  to  put  in 
staggering  and  fatal  blows. 

The  five  suspended  ministers  associated  them- 
selves into  The  Presbytery  of  Springfield  and  put 
forth  an  "Apology."  A  few  months  afterwards. 
when  that  august  body  gave  up  the  ghost,  "The 
Last  Will  and  Testament"  thereof  was  given  to 
to  the  public,  and  added  to  it  "  Tlie  Witnesses' 
Address."  In  these  three  documents,  in  cold,  hard 
print,  the  most  damaging  facts  were  unmistakably 
revealed:  That  these  men  and  their  deluded  and 
almost  insane  followers  were  drifting  away  from 
the  old  land  marks,  deviating  from  the  right  more 
and  more,  "launching  out  upon  an  uncertain  sea 
of  experiment,  and  falling  at  last  into  the  wildest 
speculation,  repudiating  some  of  the  most  vital 
doctrines  of  our  confession,  and  maintaining  that 
all  creeds  should  be  abolished. 

The  Synod  published  a  "circular  letter"  from 
the  pen  of  the  Rev.  John  Lyle,  and  subsequently 
"An  Address  to  the  Churches";  wherein  the  vag- 
aries and  tendencies  of  the  New  Light  Movement 
were  exposed  with  convincing  logic  and  merciless 
severity. 

Of  these  men  Barton  W.  Stone  alone  stood  to 
his  guns,  and  fought  the  battle  to  a  finish.  Richard 
McNemar  and  John  Dunlary,  to  his  unspeakable 
wrath  and  indignation,  deserted  him  for  the  Society 
of  the  Shakers;  and  in  ISll,  to  his  deep  mortifica- 
tion, Robert  Marshall  and  John  Thompson,  frankly 


confessing  and  unequivocally  recanting  their  errors, 
were  received  back  into  the  Synod. 

Stone  published  a  number  of  "Letters  on  the 
Atonement,"  which  raised  up  against  him  a  re- 
doubtable antagonist  in  Rev.  John  P.  Campbell, 
who  in  a  series  of  letters  stripped  off  all  the  dis- 
guises which  Stone  had  assumed,  and  "showed  him 
up"  as  nothing  better  than  a  rank  Unitarian;  and 
compelled  him  to  publicly  retract  and  "eat  up" 
some  of  the  dreadful  words  which  he  had  used. 

This  Stoneite  Party  began  to  crumble,  and 
would  have  passed  away  had  not  an  abler  man 
appeared  on  the  scene. 

Alexander  Campbell  was  a  remarkable  man. 
His  great  debate  with  Nathan  L.  Rice,  which  began 
at  Lexington  on  the  15th  of  November,  1843,  in 
the  presence  of  a  great  concourse  of  people,  and 
lasted  three  weeks,  is  one  of  the  most  notable  events 
in  the  religious  history  of  our  State.  Into  the 
organization  made  by  him  the  New  Light  Party 
was  absorbed,  and  thus  its  historical  influence  and 
importance  has  been  perpetuated. 

But  still  another  season  of  trial  was  to  come 
upon  the  Synod.  Like  a  piece  of  sound  timber 
cut  out  of  an  oak,  it  must  be  tried  and  seasoned 
before  it  could  be  fitted  and  jointed  into  the  place 
appointed  for  it.  The  last  war  with  Great  Britain, 
called  by  us  the  War  of  1812,  brought  into  being  a 
long  list  of  evils,  intensified  other  evils  already  in 
existence,  and  for  a  time  paralyzed  the  spiritual  life 
of  our  people.  Whatever  the  British  commander 
in  the  West,  General  Procter,  may  have  lacked  in 
ability  he  made  up   in   cruelty;  and  whatever  he 


lacked  in  cither  was  mure  tlian  made  up  by  Uie  coii- 
simimate  skill  and  unhonnded  ferocity  of  Tecimiseh, 
by  far  the  greatest  Indian  chief  which  it  has  ever 
been  the  misfortune  of  our  Kentucky  men  to 
encounter.  By  him  a  vast  conspiracy  was  formed ; 
scattered  tribes  drawn  together  into  one  confed- 
eracy, and  the  flames  of  a  most  destructive  contest 
lighted  up  the  whole  of  what  was  then  our  Western 
sky.  The  massacre  on  the  River  Raisin,  a  desi)erate 
struggle  at  Fort  Meigs,  where  out  of  800  men,  under 
Colonel  Dudley,  only  1.50  esca])ed,  were  tlie  fell 
disasters  of  a  conflict  which  terminated  in  a  battle 
on  the  Thames,  in  Canada,  where  Tecumseh  and 
his  horde  of  savages  received  at  the  hands  of  a 
Kentucky  regiment,  led  by  Richard  M.  Johnson, 
what  some  one  (concerning  another  more  terrible 
event)  called  "a  crowning  mercy." 

The  demoralizing  influence  of  war  is  always  felt 
in  many  ways,  in  many  directions,  but  the  magni- 
tude of  the  consecjuences  of  this  one,  coming  upon  a 
new  people,  in  a  new  country,  can  hardly  be  esti- 
mated. Like  a  drenching  rain  which  covers  the 
earth  and  reaches  far  down  into  the  soil,  the  evil 
results  permeated  our  social,  political,  and  religious 
life.  There  was  already  enough  venom  and  hatred 
between  the  old  Federal  and  Democratic  Parties, 
but  the  issues  made  by  the  War  of  1812  drew  the 
lines  so  sharp  th^t  men  would  not  tolerate  even  in 
the  pulpit  a  minister  whose  political  oi)inions 
difTered  from  tlicir  own,  and  so  political  animosity 
intlamed  the  lues  of  religious  strife,  and,  to  crown  it 
all,  just  at  this  time  the  church  was  tormented  by 
a  virulent  outbreak  of  imbelicf  and  skepticism        In 


26 

that  remarkable  book,  "The  Cause  and  Cure  of 
Infidelity,"  by  David  Nelson,  we  are  told  that 
"pocket  volumes  of  false  statements,  infidel  man- 
uals, and  painted  perversions  of  history,  are  spread- 
ing profusely,  while  opposite  publications  are  grow- 
ing more  rare."  Now,  in  an  age  when  books  were 
few  and  costly,  who  can  measure  the  disastrous 
results  produced  by  these  pocket  editions  scattered 
far  and  wide.  No  wonder  that  Nelson  denounced 
in  such  vigorous  language,  not  only  the  vices,  but 
the  ignorance  of  his  time,  and  that  he  proclaimed 
as  one  of  the  cures  of  infidelity  a  dissemination  of 
accurate  information  and  religious  knowledge. 

The  great  division  of  our  Church  into  the  Old  and 
New  School  Parties,  which  took  place  in  1837,  need 
not  detain  us,  because  with  but  few  exceptions 
Kentucky  Presbyterians  adhered  to  the  Old  School 
Party. 

Your  committee,  by  an  act  of  singular  good 
nature,  have  turned  over  to  me  three  burning 
questions:  the  institution  of  slavery;  the  Civil  War; 
and  the  division  of  our  old  Synod  in  1866 — and 
around  them  all  the  air  is  charged  with  electricity, 
and  dynamite  is  lying  about  in  chunks  as  big  as  a 
bushel;  but  fortunately,  that  dynamite  has,  in  these 
latter  years,  lost  a  large  part  of  its  explosive  power. 

The  institution  of  slavery  perished  in  the  deluge 
of  our  Ci\il  War;  there  were  great  evils  and  serious 
responsibilities  connected  with  it,  as  we  all  admit, 
and  now  not  one  of  us  would  bring  it  back  from 
the  dead  even  if  he  could.  Moreover,  the  attitude 
of  our  Synod  towards  that  institution  has  always 
been  characterized  bv  moderation  and  conservatism. 


27 

Gradual  emancipation,  couj)le(l  |)(.'rliai)S  with  com- 
pensation, would  have  been  received  with  favor 
as  the  best  solution  of  that  most  dangerous  and 
complicated  i)n)l)lcni. 

Hut  what  sliall  I  say  concerning  that  unliapi)y 
division  of  the  <  Id  Svnod  wliicli  took  jjlace  in  1S66. 
Kvery  nian  who  passed  through  the  trying  scenes 
of  some  momentous  historic  event,  must  look  back 
upon  it  from  the  standpoint  of  his  own  predilec- 
tions and  opinions.  Views  very  dilTercnt  could  be 
obtained  of  that  charming  Luray  or  Page  Valley  in 
Virginia;  as  the  spectator  might  take  his  stand  on 
the  Massanuttin  Range  on  the  one  side,  or  the 
top  of  the  Blue  Ridge  on  the  other.  Our  Synod 
was  divided  then  and  it  remains  divided  still.  And 
we  can  not  hide  the  fact  that  even  now,  after  the 
lapse  of  thirty-six  years,  we  continue  to  view  the 
landscape  from  situations  wide  aj^art. 

So  it  seems  hardly  fit  and  becoming,  or  in  keep- 
ing with  the  spirit  of  this  occasion,  to  undertake 
any  narration  thereof.  But  who  will  question  the 
assertion  that  it  was  a  terrible  misfortune  coming 
at  the  time,  and  the  way  it  did.  For  the  contro- 
versy which  immediately  produced  that  division 
came  at  a  time  when  the  minds  of  men  were  flam- 
ing hot  with  the  antagonisms  produced  by  civil 
war.  Inter  arnia  silent  leges;  and  even  after  the 
contest  is  over,  it  takes  a  long  time  for  overheated 
blood  to  cool  down,  and  for  men  to  pass  beyond  the 
scorching  fires  of  civil  strife. 

The  plowshare  ran  through  our  Synod,  our  con- 
gregations, our  families;  life-long  friends  were  parted 


asunder,  some  to  become  reconciled  in  after  years, 
some  never  could  be. 

Will  you  pardon  a  personal  reminiscence?  In 
my  early  days  I  formed  a  friendship  with  two  of 
the  young  members  of  a  certain  family;  a  friend- 
ship which  cast  a  soft  light  all  through  those  years 
of  alienation  and  division;  and  to-day  the  memory 
thereof  brings  to  me  a  most  pleasing  reflection,  that, 
Stuart  Robinson  and  Edward  P.  Humphrey  were 
reconciled  ere  they  passed  over  the  river  of  death, 
to  meet  each  other  again  on  the  banks  of  that  river 
of  life  which  flows  by  the  Throne  of  God. 

Two  Presbyterian  Churches  in  the  same  State, 
among  the  same  people,  alike  in  doctrine  and 
polity,  alike  in  customs  and  traditions,  must  always 
be,  in  Some  measure  at  least,  a  hindrance  to  each 
other.  But  we  can  look  back  into  the  thirty-six 
years  of  our  divided  life,  and  we  can  sincerely  re- 
joice that  in  the  latter  years  the  bitterness  en 
gendered  by  that  division  has  been  quietly  and 
surely  passing  away.  And  as  we  unite  in  this  cele- 
bration of  the  100th  anniversary  of  our  old  mother 
Synod,  shall  we  not  unite  (as  far  as  two  separate 
churches  can)  in  a  united  effort  to  build  up  our 
numbers  and  our  influence  in  the  commonwealth 
wherein  we  dwell?  For  one,  I  find  a  double  cause 
for  rejoicing  in  the  consolidation,  now  so  happily 
consummated,  of  our  Colleges  and  Seminaries;  and 
in  the  fact  that  thus  far  at  least  we  realize  the  wis- 
dom of  that  motto  on  Kentucky's  coat  of  arms, 
"  United  we  Stand,  Divided  we  Fall." 

Would  that  I  had  the  time  to  si)cak  of  that  long 
list    of  heroes   who   stood    in    tlie    forefront    of   our 


29 

Synod's  life.  Ministers  like  David  and  Nathan  L. 
Rice,  David  and  Samuel  K.  Nelson,  Robert  J.  and 
William  L.  Breckenridge,  Jno.  C.  Young  and  Lewis 
Warner  Green,  Stuart  Robinson,  Rutherford 
Douglas  and  Edward  P  Humphrey.  These  men, 
widely  as  they  differed  from  each  other,  were  grand- 
ly endowed  with  some  of  the  noblest  qualities  which 
our  Father  has  ever  conferred  upon  His  children. 
They  were  mighty  in  the  Scriptures,  great  in  con- 
troversy, in  eloquence  divine.  At  home  in  meta- 
physical and  polemic  theology,  si)arkling  in  wit  and 
genius.  In  that  long  list  are  to  be  found,  men  of 
clear  thought  and  sound  scholarship,  debaters  and 
parliamentarians  of  uncommon  iK)wer,  the  loving 
pastor,  the  instructive  teaclier,  the  genial  com- 
panion, tlie  faithful  friend.  Oh,  the  work  they 
did,  the  suffering  they  endured,  the  priceless  legacy 
of  renown  which  they  transmitted  tmto  us.  Upon 
an  occasion  similar  to  this  it  was  said  by  one  of 
those  men:  "The  glory  of  the  children  are  their 
fathers.  Our  glory  is  that  our  fathers  of  the  first 
generation  lighted  up  the  dark  woods  of  Kentucky 
w'ith  the  lamp  of  life ;  and  the  fathers  of  the  second 
and  third  generations  have  handed  down  to  us  the 
light  brightly  burning.  They  call  upon  us  to  pass 
it  on  all  ablaze  to  our  children  until  the  whole 
land  is  filled  with  light  and  warmlli." 

And  then  the  long  and  splendid  list  of  Ruling 
Elders.  Men  like  Ormond  Beatty,  James  Barbour 
and  David  R.  Murray,  Glass  Marshall,  Mark  Har- 
din and  Samuel  Cassedy.  Men  who  stood  in  their 
day  and  generation  like  strong  towers  which  could 
not  be  shaken;  some  lived  in  public  life  and  did  a 


30 

deal  for  their  fellowmen ;  and  some  along  the  peace- 
ful "vale  of  life  kept  the  noiseless  tenor  of  their 
way,"  and  the  memory  of  what  they  did,  and  what 
they  were,  is  slipping  gently  and  quietly  away  out 
of  the  recollection  of  men. 

When  we  read  of  the  lives  of  men  such  as  these, 
"we  pray  for  a  lingering  sunset,  even  though  we 
are  sure  that  the  following  sunrise  shall  be  yet  more 
glorious."  Nor  must  I  forget  to  mention  the  faith- 
ful service  of  S.  S.  McRoberts,  for  forty-three  years 
the  stated  clerk  of  the  Synod. 

But  at  last,  said  a  gifted  editor,  writing  upon 
the  death  of  Charles  Dickens : 

"It  is  impossible  to  write  as  the  heart  would 
write.  The  shadows  grow  thick  and  importunate, 
bringing  back  old  joys  and  hopes  and  griefs  and 
disappointments  and  longings  .  .  .  We  lay  the 
pen  aside — it  can  do  justice  neither  to  the  genius  of 
the  dead  nor  the  sorrow  of  the  living.  It  can  make 
but  a  poor  dumb  show  of  words,  that  do  not  half 
the  tribute  which  is  paid  by  the  unconscious  rose, 
the  reedy  thistle,  the  silent  sunshine,  and  the  idle 
stream." 

At  one  point  or  another  throughout  our  vState 
these  men  are  sleeping 

"  Under  the  sod  and  the  dew 
Waiting  the  Judgment  Day. 

"So,  when  the  summer  calleth, 
On  forest  and  field  of  grain 
With  an  equal  murmur  falleth 
The  coaling  drip  of  the  rain. 


"So,  with  an  ecjuul  splcndur 
The  morning  sun-rays  fall, 
With  a  touch,  impartially  tender 
On  the  blossoms  blooming  for  all." 

This  sketch  has  accoiiii)lishe(l  Init  lilllc  if  it 
has  not  revealed  the  story  of  a  Synod,  which,  like 
an  oak  planted  in  the  soil  of  adversity,  has  been 
tested  and  strengthened  in  the  storm  and  the  tem- 
pest; an  oak  whose  roots  extend  down  deep,  whose 
branches  spread  far  and  wide,  and  in  which  the  sap 
runs  strong  and  good.  It  has  grown  among  a  peo- 
ple whose  natural  qualities,  if  for  a  time  were  ob- 
scured, had  in  them  the  ring  of  metal  sound  and  true. 
A  commonwealth  l)uilt  up  as  if  by  magic,  in  a 
region  which  had  been  so  long  that  the  memory 
of  man  ran  not  to  the  contrary,  the  battle-ground 
and  the  hunting-field  of  savage  tribes  who  lived  to 
the  north  and  the  south  of  it,  of  these  tribes  not  one 
ever  had  a  dwelling  therein,  or  any  right  or  title 
thereto.  This  region  lay  a  long  distance  from  the 
haunts  of  civilized  men — an  oasis  of  sin^,'ular 
beauty  and  fertility  far  out  in  the  West,  isolated 
by  a  broad  tract  of  mountain  country  from  the 
settlements  in  the  East.  It  was  peopled  not  slow- 
ly and  gradually,  but  all  at  once,  in  a  few  years, 
by  a  grand  rush  of  emigration  over  the  Wilderness 
Road.  That  commonwealth  thus  planted  in  the 
heart  of  a  great  wilderness,  was  destined  to  become 
a  center,  from  which  should  flow  streams  of  po- 
litical and  religious  life;  a  type  of  civil  freedom 
and  government,  which,  if  strenuous  and  comba- 
tive, was  adapted  to  that  people  and  the  work  set 


449097 


32 

before  them;  a  type  of  religious  faith  and  prac- 
tice ;  the  iron  of  Calvinism  in  its  blood,  and  in  every 
fibre  the  elixir  of  a  religion  pure  and  undefiled 
before  God. 

It  is  a  fact  but  dimly  realized  that  the  great 
Synods  around  and  about  us,  have  sprung  directly 
or  indirectly  from  these  two  Synods,  which  in 
origin,  in  faith  and  in  renown  are  one,  only  one. 

On  the  24th  of  May,  1814,  by  order  of  our  Gen- 
eral Assembly,  the  Presbytery  of  Lancaster  was 
detached  from  the  Synod  of  Pittsburg;  the  Pres- 
byteries of  Washington  and  Miami  from  that  of 
Kentucky;  and  were  formed  into  the  Synod  of  Ohio, 
which  held  its  first  meeting  at  Chillicothe  in  Octo- 
ber, 1814. 

On  the  21st  of  May,  1817,  the  Presbyteries  of 
West  Tennessee,  Union,  Shiloh  and  Mississippi, 
were  detached  from  the  Synod  of  Kentucky,  and 
formed  into  a  new  Synod  called  Tennessee,  which 
held  its  first  meeting  at  Nashville  in  October,  1817. 

That  Presbytery  called  Mississippi,  which  was 
created  by  our  Synod,  expanded  until  in  1829  it 
became  the  Synod  of  that  name. 

In  1823  our  Synod  formed  a  new  Presbytery 
called  Salem,  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Ohio  oppo- 
site the  present  city  of  Louisville;  which  grew  so 
fast  that  in  October,  1826,  the  Synod  of  Indiana 
held  its  first  meeting  at  Yincennes. 

And  finally  a  Presbytery  called  Missouri,  ex- 
tending across  Southern  Illinois  beyond  the  Missis- 
sippi River,  formed  the  nucleus  around  whicli 
gathered  in  after  years  tlie  Syn(jds  of  Illinois  and 
Missouri. 


33 

So  look  tothe  North  and  the  vSoutli,  and  sec  how 
great  and  stalwart  are  your  children. 

In  IS09  the  Synod  of  Kentucky  contained  forty- 
one  ministers  and  1,343  members. 

In  1902  our  two  Synods  taken  together  contain 
177  ministers,  273  churches  and  28,320  members, 
whereof  two-thirds  are  in  the  Southern  Synod. 

And  we  form  a  part  of  two  jiowerful  General 
Assemblies,  which  taken  together  contain  l(),7Go 
churches,  9,118  ministers,  38,068  ruling  elders, 
1,275,000  members,  and  our  contributions  for  the 
last  year  reached  the  royal  sum  of  $19,307,740. 

And  looking  onward  into  the  future  let  us  con- 
clude with  those  wonderful  words  of  John  Ruskin : 

"God  doth  set  His  bow  in  the  cloud,  and  thus 
renews,  in  the  sound  of  every  falling  drop  of  rain. 
His  promise  of  everlasting  love  ....  And  these 
passings  to  and  fro  of  fruitful  showers  and  grateful 
shade,  .  .  .  and  voices  of  moaning  winds  and 
threatening  thunders,  .  .  .  are  but  to  deepen  in 
our  hearts  the  acceptance  and  distinctness  and 
dearness  of  the  words  '  Our  Father  which  art  in 
Heaven.'" 


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